


Turn the Tables

by bestwithalisp, kassanovella



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dramatic Face Reveal, F/M, Face Slapping, Inappropriate use of a Lightsaber, Lightsaber Battles, Master Ren gets taken down a peg, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, Shameless Smut, Smut, Verbal Humiliation, dom!reader, kind of, ruined orgasm, sub!Kylo Ren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 04:00:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8129645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestwithalisp/pseuds/bestwithalisp, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kassanovella/pseuds/kassanovella
Summary: You inhaled, a wave of confidence pulsing through you. The apprentice apprehending the master. You wanted to see just how far he would let you go with this.
“You like this.” You traced the line of his pretty, plump lip with your thumb. “Don’t you?” He didn’t respond, leaving no choice but to drop his chin and smack him hard across his face. “Don’t you?”
Kylo grunted, eyes defiant. He was far from admitting it aloud—but the acceptance of your palm on his cheek was proof enough that, yes. He liked it.





	

“Right foot forward. Your stance is still incorrect. Your weight should be on the side that’s attacked. _Again_.”

You had been through this song and dance at least two hundred times by now. You knew the correct footing, you had read over battle stances with practice sabers and stick weaponry time and time again. But Kylo Ren was unpredictable–-each session with him was never like the last. He enjoyed using the excuse _battle never has a constant,_ but by this point you found it hard to believe every enemy wanted to chop your head off.   
He lurched forward, swinging vertically and you parried the attack with a horizontal slice across his blade. The force of his strike caused your wrist to flex back and you rested the saber at your hip again to recover some of the shock.

“ _Riposte_. You won’t win if you’re constantly defending yourself.” He stepped diagonally, purposeful strides–-emotions hidden beneath the lifeless mask. 

He limbered his wrist mockingly–silently reprimanding you for not doing the same after his blow. You grimaced, holding the hand opposite the one wielding the blade in front of you and widened your stance. You twisted the blade around in your hand twice as he advanced. 

With his height and stature, he was merciless. His speed was predatory and the entire force of his body shot through each strike he made. But you had been studying him for awhile, and you knew that when his attacks became hasty, he tended to leave a small section of his ribs open. 

Whether it was intentional or not, you had always been hesitant to threaten him. Even with how strenuous, time-consuming, and horrible he’d been with you–-like that time he cut through your armor and belt easily just to prove a point that your abdomen was always an open target. Or when he caught you off guard during a break and sliced your flask of water into two pieces. But he had been extraordinarily impudent in this particular instance, and you thought perhaps it was time for your superior to be brought down a peg or two.

He swung once, you blocked, and slid the beam off of yours with a harrowing screech. He flourished his weapon twice in his hands–throwing off his next maneuver. You followed suit, swinging the blade before your outstretched hand and plunging your weapon down into a vertical slice, forcing him to block and attack soon after. You let the saber glide down his own in defense, nearly reaching the vents before gripping the hilt of your weapon with two hands, heels digging into the dust. You grunted–-remembering all those times prior to this where he laughed at your incompetence, how he questioned if you were even worthy of his training and decency. With these memories overflowing in a rage of emotion, you shoved his weapon downwards until the tip hit the ground–-fizzling and crackling in an attempt to superheat the dirt. 

Before he was able to retract his stance, you released the blade lock on him and hovered your weapon at his side, just above his belt. The blood hue of your saber drew closer, snapping and singing the fabrics of his robe as he stood there, awestruck with your clever ploy. You inhaled–-a wave of confidence pulsing through you-–the apprentice apprehending the master. You wanted to see just how far he would let you go with this. You flicked the tip of your weapon from his side to just below his chin and flashed him a smirk.

“On your knees. Deactivate your weapon. _Now_.” Your eyes were stuck on the slats of his mask, and you heard the unstable hum of his blade retract back towards his hand. The once towering figure fell before you in defeat and you followed his chin down with your saber. 

“Good. It seems as though our sessions are finally being processed.” His helmet tilted down, nonchalant, at your weapon threatening to pierce his neck.

Your jaw clenched and your lips pulled into a tight line. _He’s at your mercy and he’s still talking down to you? Maybe he needs to learn more than defeat_. 

“Oh, I’m not done yet, _Master_.”

“Look at you,” he said. “The little girl thinks she can threaten me.”

You growled. “I can do _more_ than threaten you.” The blade singed the fabric at his neck with an electric hiss as you regarded him, feeling the contempt of his gaze spearing through the black slate of his visor. That gaze you’d never seen, but always felt. And now was your chance to put a face to the name. “Take the helmet off.”

Kylo Ren was silent for a moment, considering if he wanted to indulge your request. Perhaps the heat at jaw convinced him. Gloved hands rose to the sides of his helmet, pressing into the locks, the muzzle swinging out with a sibilant whine. He was careful to avoid the length of your blade as he pulled it from his head and tossed into the dirt.

To be honest, you weren’t sure _what_ you had been expecting. Someone older, maybe. Battle-worn. Wizened. But not this. 

Not thick waves of black hair, not high and pointed cheekbones, not plush, pink lips, and certainly not amber-brown eyes, staring straight through your own. Kylo Ren wasn’t just young and attractive. He was _gorgeous_. And this was causing issues for you. Issues that centered specifically at the apex of your thighs.

“Hm. Pathetic.” Kylo went to stand, but you held your hilt tight, stinging his neck with the blade—and he _winced_.

“I think you’re the one who’s pathetic,” you replied. “Beaten so easily by your own apprentice. Look at you, on your knees for me.”

His face was blank—only a hint of ire in his gaze. “Yet when I imagine this scenario, it’s typically been the other way around.”

“Asshole!” you snarled, kicking a cloud of dust into his face. He seethed, blinking away the bite of dirt settling into his mouth and eyes. While he was blinded, you killed your saber, throwing it to the side and snatching his chin in your hand. “Look at me, _Ren_.” He refused, and you shook his head. “ _Look at me_.”

He did, through bleary eyes, brow furrowed and jaw tight. You were waiting for him to realize that your saber was off, that he was free—but if he knew, he didn’t move, glaring at you while the glow of shame lit up his cheeks. Shame. That was strange. Cocking a brow, you scanned his body—you hadn’t meant to see it, but once you had, you were unable to stop the hot fire of lust ripping through your belly.

It was obvious, plainer than his long, pointed nose—his cock was hard. _Very_ hard. You swallowed, lingering too long on the tight strain of leather between his legs, and you met his stare again, holding back from biting your lip.

“You _like_ this.” You traced the line of his pretty, plump lip with your thumb. “Don’t you?” He didn’t respond, leaving no choice but to drop his chin and smack him hard across his face. “Don’t you?”

Kylo grunted, eyes defiant. He was far from admitting it aloud—but the acceptance of your palm on his cheek was proof enough that, yes. He _liked_ it.

You lips twitched into a smirk. Your confidence was blooming, and you wanted to see how long he would play along.

You reached down and cupped your fingers around the prominent bulge in his trousers–gripping it tight and giving it a harsh jerk. He let out a short hiss and hunched his shoulders, but his gaze was still playful–-curious.

“Mmm, poor creature. I bet you’re just _begging_ in that overconfident mind of yours to be toyed with, aren’t you?” You gave his cock another pointed tug, earning a guttural huff of annoyance from him. "Disgusting. I wonder what else you’ll do for me.“ 

You released the unforgiving hold on him, wrapped your fingers around the hilt of your saber tighter with your other hand and pointed it towards his groin. Although it wasn’t ignited, the distance was far too uncomfortable for him not to obey should you choose to thumb the activation plate.

“Take these off.” You gestured at his pants with your weapon. “I want to see how desperate you are for me.”

Kylo let out a short exhale, mouth quirking up into an amused smile. "Fascinating.” He ran a gloved palm over the mark forming on his face “You really think _you_ can make demands of me? I could stop you at any moment. Turn the tables. Make you _plead_ for my mercy.“

He was goading you, seeing how far you would take it before insecurity got the better of you. You inhaled, and put more pressure on the weapon’s switch. 

“And, yet, here you are practically asking for me to use you. Now be a good boy, take off your trousers. I won’t ask you again.” You snickered, positioning the hilt closer to his tumescence.

He groaned in mock defeat and rose up until he was towering over you–-unfastening the clasps of his suspenders and digging his thumbs under the waistband of his trousers. The fabric revealed his thighs as he shucked off pants and boots alike, tossing them off to the side shamelessly. He looked back at you-–mischievous and daring–-waiting in inquisitive silence for your next command.

Your eyes jaunted across his figure several times over before placing your attention on his aching, heavy cock. You let out an instinctive sigh at how flawless it was-–wide head, painfully large, with a slight curve. It wasn’t fair for an awful, merciless man to have such perfect features, and he deserved to be reminded of this. 

“Go on,” you ordered, “stroke it. Let’s see how you fuck yourself.”

His lips parted to protest, but you were quicker.

“If you don’t listen, I’ll tease you for a week. Bring you to the point of begging to cum over and over. Is that what you want?”

“You would be lucky to see me again this week at all,” he shot back. 

But he still obeyed, eyes narrowed and locked on your face as he cupped a large hand at the base of his dick. For all of his amusement at your mock power, he genuinely wasn’t impressed with this command. His fingers gripped around his girth, squeezing and pushing the skin forward over the pulsing vein underneath. When his thumb made it to the tip he gathered the pearlescent bead of pre-cum and smeared it back down across his shaft. His strokes progressively became more ruthless–length growing under his hand with each pass. He was so close, the perfect time for you to assert your authority once again. 

Your fingers clutched his hand and pushed it back down to his abdomen, urging his digits to cinch around the base of his cock until it was almost unbearably tight. 

“Don’t you _dare_ move your hand from this position,” you warned, pulling away from his hand. “You cum when I say. Back on your knees. Quickly.”

He obeyed, dignity falling off of him in waves from his own arousal. He hit the dust with a low _thud_ , head bowed in submission. 

You let your free hand thread through those divine locks of his hair until you reached the back of his scalp and jerked his face to look at you. You shook him roughly, clenching your teeth before speaking again. 

“Unbelievable. This pointless waste of flesh was chosen to fulfill the most _important galactic undertaking_?” You threw the saber to the side and began tugging at the waistband of your leggings. “In my opinion, your entire being is only good for a fuck. That’s all you’ll ever be good for, isn’t it?” You worked your bottoms off one side, sliding you boot off with it.

He didn’t answer-–you supposed he was still clutching onto a thread of his authority. 

You hooked your bare leg over one of his broad shoulders, pressing his face down into your sex.

“When I ask you a question, Ren, I expect you to answer it.”

You felt him smirk against your slit, voice barely a whisper. “You’re already soaked.” He caught his lip between your folds, his breaths hot and quick. 

“Your mouth would be more useful around my clit than speaking. The only thing you should be thinking about is making me cum. I would suggest you get to work, _Master_.” You examined your nails in false-boredom, then looked down at him under your nose. "If you do a good job, I might even give you a reward.“

Kylo grunted, but obeyed, starting with soft kisses along your outer lips, wet tongue slicking up in between your folds, teasing over your core. You jerked your hips, fisting his hair as you looked down at him. His eyes were glazed over with lust already, growing darker while his full lips worked up your slit, tongue just brushing your bud. This earned a moan from you, and you gripped tighter at his hair, scraping his scalp, rocking your hips into his face. But even with this, he only skimmed your clit, sending tiny jolts of pleasure through your thighs.

“Do as you’re told, slut.” You yanked his hair, and face twitched in pain. “Don’t make me punish you.”

He grumbled, sucking your stiff clit into his warm mouth—and you gasped, gazing into his eyes as he swirled gentle circles around the nub.

“Fuck,” you murmured, “that’s right. Good boy.”

The words of praise seemed to coax him on—he groaned into you, sucking and teasing your swollen bud while he moved along your slit. His mouth was so wet, so skilled—flicking and laving your clit, making you clench and shake against his face. But you wanted to resist falling apart—you didn’t want him to know how fucking _good_ it felt, how you were forcing your lungs into an even state, how you were keeping your focus by balling his hair in your fingers.

But your determination was matched by his own—he _wanted_ to give you pleasure, _wanted_ you to unravel on his mouth. So he went from sucking to slurping, his tongue gathering and gulping every drop of you that dared to leak from your cunt. You inhaled a breath through your teeth, chin quivering while he buried his face into your pussy, cheeks red and forehead beaded with sweat. He was moaning, now—lewd, matching the obscenity of his desperation for your cum.

“Fuck, _yes_.” You tugged him closer, his nose grinding into your mound.

His lips sealed back around your clit, drawing it up between his teeth, and you cried out, rolling your hips like you were trying to fuck his face. Every muscle between your legs was pulsing and clenching, pleasure a hot, steady buzz growing in your body, breath catching in your throat as your orgasm threatened to strangle you.

“That’s it—that’s it—fuck…”

You felt it—right at the edge, his tongue leading you there, your cunt ready to spill and pulse on his mouth and chin—but he stopped, using his strength to jerk his head back, leaving you stranded, abandoned. Needy.

Growling, you pushed off of him, whacking him hard across the face—the sharp smack of skin leaving a sting on your palm. “Filthy animal!” you snarled, slapping him again. “I asked you _not_ to make me do this.”

Kylo smirked. “I fear nothing from you, girl.”

You glared, snagging his lightsaber from the ground and reeling back to slam him on the chin—but you stopped. His eyes barely betrayed it—actual shock at your decision—and you chuckled.

“No,” you said. “I have a better idea.” You clasped his jaw—still slick with spit and wetness—and pried it open, resting the tip of the pommel at his teeth. “If you won’t eat pussy, then you can suck on this.”

You shoved it into his mouth, and he _whined_ , lids shut tight as he strained to pop his mouth far enough to receive his weapon. But you felt no pity, grinning when you heard the click of his joints as you jammed it past the vents, his pink lips stretching wide around the pointed, sharp ridges of the saber. The tension on his flesh turned it bone-white—you wondered if the skin would crack and bleed. You hoped it would.

Grinning, you joined him on your knees, hand going to his cock and trailing two fingers back and forth over his length. Eating your cunt had him red and turgid already—but the extra attention made his hips buck, and he whimpered, struggling to suck at all on the massive intrusion in his mouth. You purred, stroking his arm with one hand, drawing slow, light lines along the base of his shaft with the other. His flesh was so hot, throbbing to cum, and as you stroked him faster, his grip around his cock loosened. You frowned.

“Don’t you let go,” you said. “If you want to cum, you’ll do what I say. Do you understand?”

Whimpering again, he nodded, eyes shutting as he willed himself to pinch his shaft while he twitched underneath your fingertips.

You wondered if he had ever concentrated this hard in his existence. Dark brows furrowing, using any technique to push the pleasure away. Seeing your Master thoroughly broken at your touch elicited a satisfied sigh from you. 

But he was doing too good of a job keeping his emotions in check, so perhaps it was time to bestow another distraction. The hand at his cock came up to meet your lips and you licked a wide line down your palm. His eyes snapped open at your sudden vacancy but soon fluttered as your fingers wrapped just under the tip of his shaft. You stroked your thumb around the head, smearing the pre-cum that was practically _drooling_ out of him. 

You shot him an involuntary smirk, gripping him tighter and giving half-hearted strokes down his length. He met your gaze once again, and it was nearly embarrassing how desperate his eyes were. But you knew he would be equally as merciless if he were in your position, and you knew he needed to be punished adequately for his deplorable behavior. 

You straddled his spread thighs and leaned in closer to that beautiful face of his. You wrapped your other hand around the end of his saber, forcing his mouth open wider with the unforgiving metal and pressing it in until his teeth grazed the activation plate. 

“So _big_ isn’t it?” you cooed, plunging your other hand down to meet his at the base of his cock.

He nodded slightly, his weapon bobbing in your hand.

“I bet you want to fuck me just like this, don’t you? Ride you like the unworthy animal you are. I know you so desperately want to cum inside of this cunt. It would feel so tight–-so perfect around that huge cock of yours… wouldn’t it?” You hung on your last words-–forcing a primal growl out from under his saber. 

The vein under your grip pulsed harder–-white -hot and throbbing. The importune expression on his face was wholly amusing, but you knew of his reputation around the base. He was impatient and unforgiving, you had witnessed it yourself multiple times. You were curious to see when he would employ that wrath to this particular situation.

And you were thankful for that moment of clarity because in one smooth motion, he loosened his grip at the base of his cock, wrapped his massive fingers around yours sliding down the skin at the tip and plunged your hand to the base. You locked your hand around his dick and when he tried to guide your digits back up you pinched him–-hard. He shouted around the weapon–-not in bliss-–but in liquid frustration. That’s when you felt it: sticky pools of cum gathering around your knuckles, spilling over your hand, every ounce of his pleasure removed from his release.

“You’re even _weaker_ than I imagined.” Your words dripped in condescension.

You pulled the saber from his lips in one solid motion–long strings of spit following it, and you were certain he cut his mouth on the edges of the hilt. Using his knee for leverage, you rose up until you were hovering over him–imposing and intimidating much like his own figure. Your eyes roamed over him, appraising the mess of a superior before you. 

“Better make yourself appropriate if you’re going to be of any use at all.” You kicked a final cloud of dust at his face before tugging your trousers back on and walking away.

**Author's Note:**

> An uncommon sub!Kylo prompt! But who doesn't love sub!Kylo, secretly? Don't we all want to make him beg, at some point? Also sorry ruined orgasms because I convinced Beth that ruined orgasms are amazing.
> 
> We hope you enjoyed it!! Thanks so much! <3


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